


Love

by LHasty



Category: Original Work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 08:02:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18361922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LHasty/pseuds/LHasty
Summary: Just some of last year's NanoWriMo prep!





	Love

He had been asked - and more than once, at that - why he had no one to love. That, however, was not a true statement. There were plenty of people that, should he so desire it, would have loved him dearly. He had no doubt about that, just as he had no doubt about his place and position in the universe.  
But it was that place, that position, that kept him from it. It kept him from forming real bonds, the deep lines between people, between friends. Between lovers. That wasn't to say he didn't have people he trusted. He had this as well, people that he knew he could rely on to do his bidding. And that? That was a problem. Friends didn't do 'bidding'. Servants did. Slaves certainly did. 

That, he thought, was not a terribly good way of speaking about - thinking about - 'friends'. It certainly wasn't the way one might consider a lover, was it?

No.

These thoughts had turned over in his mind for some time. He supposed that they really started to crop up the first time he realized that he was a he. He wasn't entirely sure when that was; it was after the advent of humans, but before, he was certain, the realization of the written word. Quite some time, to be sure, but humans were nowhere near as old as him by the time he came to that understanding. Watching them, of course, had been terribly helpful, and for as brutish and brutal as men could be? He supposed that, alone, might've helped him come to that understanding. 

At times, he felt a flutter of disgust at himself for assigning himself to a gender that would, for millennia, subjugate women, but that's just the way it was. Their brutal cruelty reminded him of the way in which life worked. It was not kind. It was not gentle. It was not here to fetch your slippers and lick your nuts. Life was a harsh, horrible thing. And he, the destroyer of all things living and not living? Well, he was just as vicious, he supposed.

It'd been fitting to 'become' male, as much as he could become anything. 

And while he could certainly see the beauty in male things, as utterly sure of that fact as he was, it was the softer, more emotionally driven gender that he had always been drawn to. Perhaps it was the fact that they were capable of giving life. Sure, men contributed, but without females. Those contributions meant nothing, would go nowhere, become nothing. 

It was that ability that drew him to them, for they could make what he destroyed. Yes, in the end, it was all just atoms, a collection of chaos that came together in amazing ways, but that wasn't the point. That a female could do such a thing, spark life out of seemingly nothing? This fascinated him, to almost horrific levels. For so long, even though he understood the technicality of it? 

Entropy thought that females possessed some level of magic that was foreign to even him. For as cliche as the statement was, there was something truly miraculous about it. He had no use for spirituality in anything else, but this was as close as he could get.

(He was proud, however, of his firm belief that no female should have that miracle pushed onto them. What gives can - should be able to - take away, and if a woman felt, for whatever reason, that she needed to strike life from her? So be it - it was a woman's right. He had no doubt about it.)

And in the end, it was that nature, the ability to give - and take - that entranced him so. His gaze couldn't not appreciate them. He couldn't not gaze at them with a fondness that even he did not entirely understand - never would, perhaps. It was not, after all, the nature of Entropy to deal in the spiritual, in the idea that love - so cruel a word it was - was anything more than a fleeting thing, something so rightfully deprived of him.

In the end? He did not love. Not really. Yes, he appreciated and yes, undoubtedly, he trusted.

But in matters of love, Bylah could never quite find it in himself to do such a thing. For love was a fleeting, brief thing and, much to his great dismay? He was not. 

He was forever.


End file.
